


Beautiful Unfoldings

by ashleyy15



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff and Angst, High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleyy15/pseuds/ashleyy15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To him, she was always 'pretty' with her blonde hair and the big blue eyes. But it's when she closes herself from everyone else that he realizes she's beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Unfoldings

When we were only six, it was just the both of us, roaming around the playground with our jackets tight around our body. Our mothers were friends and I guess that was how I met _her._ “My name’s Annie,” she said in this squeaky cute little voice. Her blonde locks were long back then, and her mother would tie a ribbon to keep her hair from falling to her face. She was pretty, she was perfect and I thought she was angel.

     “Are you cold, Bert?” She would ask every time it snowed, which was rare. Each time she asked, her blue eyes grew wide and her cheeks become rosy pink. And each time, I’ll answer, “No, are you?” She would shake her head and by the end of the day, we’ll huddle in front of the fire under a large warm blanket my mother knitted and just sit there, staring at the beautiful orange and red flames dancing.

     The light reflected on her face made her looked like she was glowing, it that were possible. It made her usual fair skin look tanned and it really did suit her. But she was pretty, no matter what.

     We turned ten and she smiled less. Her usual grins and cute smiles were gone, replaced with emotionless expressions. I lived next door and sometimes I could hear her parents screaming and arguing in the middle of the night while everyone was trying to sleep. Her bedroom lights were turned off, but we both knew, there was no way she was getting any sleep by staying in that house. So I did the most logical thing a ten year old could think of. I packed up all my things, stuffed them in a duffel bag and left a letter on my bed, addressed to my mother, telling her that I’m running away with Annie. That night was the first time I climbed out of my bedroom window and threw pebbles to her bedroom window. As expected, she heard me and I could swear, a small smile appeared on her lips.

    She threw a ready-packed backpack to me before carefully climbing down. Once we made sure no one saw us or heard us, we ran to the lake where our parents had helped built a treehouse just for us during the summer. There were polaroids of the both of us from our younger years (including one which had me and Annie under the large blanket with grins on our faces) stuck on the walls. Two cushions were there, waiting for us to sleep on them. The junk food we compiled for so long were still there, though we didn’t touch them since they were probably expired. “Too bad there’s no TV,” Annie said, making her way to one end of the treehouse. She threw a pillow on the ground before taking a blanket from her bag and wrapping it around herself. “But at least it’s quiet here.” I sat down next to her sleeping figure and wondered why on earth my heart was pounding so hard and fast against my chest. I ended up sleeping next to her, and our parents found us the next morning and took us back home.

     At thirteen, her parents’ argument got worse and soon her mother moved away, leaving Annie with her father. It was then that she stopped smiling completely. Her pink tops and skirts were replaced with hoodies and baggy sweats. Her hair was cut short and instead of letting it flow, she tied it up, giving her an older look. Her eyes became sunken, making her look tired most of the time. That’s not all; she stopped riding bikes with me to school too and insisted on walking. In school, she refused to talk to anyone and shut herself out even from me. She joined the martial arts team in school and became the school’s champion in martial arts, but even then, she didn’t let anyone talk to her. I began to feel lonely and my other friend, Reiner, told me it’s alright and that Annie probably didn’t feel comfortable with having friends. But somehow, I knew he was wrong. If she didn’t feel comfortable with having friends, the girl all those years ago wouldn’t have introduced herself to me at all.

     One night, after I’ve came back from my part-time job, I heard someone crying in my room. Even in the pitch black room, I could recognize that cry. I haven’t heard it in years, but I recognized it nonetheless. “Annie?” The cries ceased immediately and the lamp beside my bed was turned on. Annie, in her hoodie and sweats, was sitting on my bed, hair messed up and all, but she still looked pretty. Tear stains were obvious on her face. I walked over to where she was and sat in front of her. She wiped a tear away and looked at me with the saddest look. “Can I sleep here tonight?” I didn’t answer, instead I nodded and tossed my backpack onto the floor before crawling into the space beside her, making sure there was a decent distance between us before we both fall asleep.

     We became seventeen and Annie let her hair grow long again. For three years we didn’t speak since that night she cried in my room. We still lived next to each other, but she kept more to herself and I was forced to hang out with Reiner more. She still refused to wear girly clothing, but she had long upgraded from wearing sweats. In school, I’ll catch her wearing this brown jacket over her hoodies and a pair of washed out Levi’s jeans with dark green converse sneakers. Many people claimed to nominate her as Homecoming Queen, and so she ended up being Miss Ackerman’s rival for the title. But she never turned up to prom, and I knew that because I found her crying in my room again. Both of us, dressed in our prom outfits, sitting in a pitch black room with only her cries being heard.

     I had my arms around her, careful not to invade her personal space. Annie didn’t like people asking her if she was alright, so I kept my mouth shut and just hugged her, letting her cry. After minutes went by, she stopped and I didn’t ask her why she cried either. We both sat on my bed, her head resting on my shoulder and my sweaty hands repeatedly wiped on my pants. “I thought you would have won.” I told her genuinely and I could just picture her smiling in the dark. “You really are pretty.” She laughed at that and then she said, “How would you know I’m pretty if you haven’t even seen me?” We had been in the dark the whole time but I always thought she was pretty since we were six. But I didn’t tell her that. I reached out to my lamp and flicked it on, my breath instantly caught itself in my throat at the sight of her. She wore a light blue dress that hugged her body not too tightly, but just right. Her blonde hair was curled and styled to the side. She had faint make-up on, but all I could think was how beautiful she looked right then. That’s it, Annie Leonhardt wasn’t pretty, and she was **beautiful.**

I could picture all my other friends in school trying to find a pretty girl in prom, but they had no idea how lucky _I_ was. The most beautiful girl in the world was sitting in my bedroom, on prom night, looking amazing even after a crying session. But then my eyes drifted to the bruises on her arm and I instantly knew why she wore long sleeved hoodies, why she took up martial arts, why she distant herself from everyone in life. She was being abused and it pained me to know that I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Her eyes caught my own and guilt swam in her eyes. I squatted down on the ground in front of her so I was on the same level as her. Our eye contact didn’t break even as I lifted her arm towards me and kissed those bruises. One, two, three, I kissed them all. I wanted to take them all away and replace them with me. “You are so beautiful,” I whispered to her. I didn’t know when or how it happened, but the next thing I knew, her lips were pressed against mine and I could taste watermelon on her.

     I still couldn’t stop the abuse, but a year later she moved out and into an apartment two blocks away where her mother was. We kissed, we hugged, we told each other ‘I love you’ all the time. And I meant every little thing. Even on the day she was dressed in white and I in black, I meant my words. She had no idea, how beautiful she was. Her bruises faded away, her smiles came back and she rarely cried in our bedroom anymore.

     Even years later, I still thought she **is** beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Three claps for the cheesy ending! If you wanna request for more, message me on tumblr: http://asherylene.tumblr.com/


End file.
